


Young and Menace

by orphan_account



Series: The best of us can find happiness in misery [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Ace/Aro Patrick, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Patrick Stump, Asexual Character, Asexual Patrick Stump, Gen, M/M, Murder AU, Queerplatonic peterick, Soulmate AU, mutant AU, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patrick Stump was scared and alone, but when he meets three men he doesn't have to be.





	Young and Menace

Patrick was scared and alone. It was dark and quiet, any noise echoed around the small room he was in. Tears poured from his eyes as he begged someone to help him, to get him out of the room with the four white walls, but nobody was there and nobody came. This was all he could remember, he grew up locked away inside these white walls and he knew, that with the way things where going, he would die behind them as well. He looked forward to that day, the day he was released from the cruel experiments and 'cures' that the so-called doctors forced on him, the day that he escaped the torture he was put through. Even if the only way to escape that would be through death, Patrick was more than prepared.

He wondered how his family was, he couldn't remember them very well. They, the doctors, had taken him when he was very young, around four years old, ignoring the screams and please of his mother and father, the only thing he could remember about them where those heart breaking screams. Those screams haunted whatever sleep he managed to steal, making him wake up in a cold sweat and cries barely being held back.

The doctors didn't like it when he cried.

An unsteady 'beep, beep' could be heard in the room, the beeping coming from the heart rate monitor that was making sure Patrick wasn't panicking too much. They didn't like it when he panicked too much, just like his parents didn't. That's why he was with these disgusting people, right? Because he was (a lot) more trouble than he was worth?

Fear crawled up his spine as he heard the tell-tale 'thud-thud' of footsteps approaching his little white room. His breathing increased and he started panicking even more. His heart rate got faster, his breathing got heavier and his head was swimming with thoughts, of memories, if what could happen, what had happened, when the owner of those footsteps entered the room.

The doctors normally didn't come so late, especially after haven experimented on him for longer than usual that day. Patrick didn't like it when they broke the routine.

The footsteps stopped. Patrick tugged in the restraints that held his arms down, despite knowing that he couldn't escape. He had tried, again and again, yet he never managed it. He would never manage it, these doctors would torture him until he died and no one would ever know. No one would ever care. The thought saddened the teenager - Patrick was sure he eighteen, but everything was a blurry mess despite being so crystal clear and the days had all blended together - as he realised, once again, that there was hardly any chance for him to be freed from the Hell that he lived in.

The handle rattled and the door creaked open. There stood a man, with a tattoo on his neck, that managed to look both intimidating and sweet at the same time. The man smiled at him as he walked towards the metal table (his bed for many years) yet his smile grew concerned as Patrick flinched back in fear.

"I'm Andy," the man said, his voice didn't match the intimidating man in front of him. It was high-pitched, yet not annoying at all. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name, Sir," Patrick said, because that was what he was told to say. He wasn't Patrick anymore, he was no one, he was just a test-subject that could be discarded at a moments notice. He flinched once again when Andy looked disappointed. Wasn't he meant to answer? The doctors beat him if he didn't answer questions straight away, yet they would also beat him when he spoke out of turn - which was always, so Patrick tried not to speak anymore - and Andy wasn't a doctor. Maybe Andy didn't want him to talk at all, but he wasn't sure. Everything was so confusing.

"Joe, Pete, get down the last floor now. End door," he heard Andy say into something (the doctors often had one, and Patrick thinks it's called a 'phone') before the intimidating man walked over and released Patrick from his restraints. Patrick rubbed his wrists and backed even further away from Andy, before letting out a terrified sob as the man approached him once again. He fell off of the metal table, winching in pain as he hit his already bruised sides against both the metal table and the floor.

"Relax, please, I need to take a look at your wounds... okay?" Andy said calmly, dropping to his knees and shuffling towards Patrick.

Patrick nodded his head and let Andy inspect the visible wounds on his arms and legs. When everything was bandaged, Patrick had to admit that felt nice to have someone take care of the wounds for once, instead of when the doctors just walked away and leaving them to get infected.

"Thank you, Sir," he whispered, hoping that he wasn't stepping out of line and that Andy wouldn't punish him like the doctors would. He was so scared of everything, of everyone.

"It's fine, and Andy is fine," he said, confusing Patrick even more. He was never allowed to address someone by their name, the doctors said it made it seem like he was actually human, something they loved to remind him that he wasn't. These men couldn't be telling the truth, surely he wasn't actually allowed to address them by their names, allowed to degrade them like that. They where people after all.

"My names Patrick," he whispered, hoping that he wouldn't regret trusting someone, just as two men burst through the door that kept him prisoner.

"Lets get you out of here, Patrick," Andy said softly, offering his hand out to help Patrick up, yet he didn't look offended when Patrick flinched away from the offered hand and got up by himself. He nervously glanced at the two other men in the room, yet he didn't seem as panicked as he would've if Andy wasn't there, he automatically felt drawn towards the short-haired one and he trusted the longer haired man as long as Andy did.

(Except he didn't, not really, and he was terrified of one of the three coming to their senses and beating him for disobeying.)

The four of them walked out of the room with the four white walls, and Patrick felt a small, miniscule really, spark of hope.


End file.
